Crack An Egg On Your Head Novels & Stories

I can't be complacent. I wanted to prank Gerald, and I saw what ingredients I could use. My gaze was immediately look on the egg and secretly taking the egg because Gerald focused on my breast. Gerald tilted his head left and right, sometimes maneuvering to devour all of my breasts. Clak!!! I broke the egg on his head. And unfortunately, it's a rotten egg. I immediately wanted to vomit to smell that pungent aroma. "Fuck!" Shouted Gerald. I ran out of the kitchen, and I just realized that I was naked.

It was a tomato. I was just taking in the shock when another joined in, flying into my room and hitting the ground. It created a mess on the floor. I heard the sound of something crack and I looked up to see that a quail's egg had cracked on my window, the mixture of white and yellow dripping down my window. When I looked down, I realized an angry mob was standing down below, yelling curses at me as they kept throwing eggs and fruits in anger. Soon, my room was a mess and all I could do was stand and watch as fruits flew into my room.

I didn’t ask you to come. I couldn’t unhear myself say it. I raised the bat high above my head, white-knuckled, my breath hitching as the weight of everything slammed down in one final blow. CRACK. The bat connected with his skull. The sound wasn’t just a crack—it was a pop. Like a watermelon under pressure. Blood and brain matter splashed up the wall behind him. His head slumped grotesquely to one side, barely connected anymore. The chair toppled with him still strapped to it. Limbs twitching, then nothing.

Before the other cards could stop me, I raised the mallet and brought it down with what strength I could muster, smashing her head like a watermelon. It wasn’t blood that came bursting out of her skull. Nope, instead, the crack in her head was like some vortex wormhole that sucked me in. “NO, NO, NO! I don’t want to go in her head!” I screamed, trying to stop getting sucked in, but I didn’t have a choice.

My hand slipped. The axe flew from my grip—and knocked the golden egg across the floor. The egg bounced twice before a crack split across its shell. I was about to fetch something to wipe away the liquid leaking out when a small piece of shell fell off. Then a tiny golden claw poked through the crack and began scratching at the shell. I froze. The claw scratched for a while but couldn’t get out, so it retreated. A moment later, a sharp little golden beak pushed through—but the gap was too small and it got stuck, forcing it to withdraw again.

As time went by, the sound of such heartbeat became more and more clear and powerful. Suddenly— "Crack!" There came a faint crack from the crimson egg. In the middle of the Blood Pool, there were dense and small cracks branching from the crimson giant egg crack. It seemed that a terrible monster was going to emerge out from the shell, just like a butterfly did. As the cracks grew more and more, suddenly with a "bang", a fist came out. A white and fine fist broke the shell from the inside and then stretched out. The five fingers clenched tightly just as tough and powerful as a white hammer.

I found a tray in one of the cabinets and set it aside. Then I got to work. The eggs were first. The video made it look easy… crack them into a bowl, whisk them, add a little milk, season with salt and pepper, cook them gently in a pan with butter. I cracked the first egg and half the shell went into the bowl. "Fuck," I muttered, fishing it out with my fingers. The second egg went better. Third one I got cocky and cracked it too hard, sending yolk all over the counter. By the time I had four eggs successfully in the bowl, the kitchen looked like a small explosion had occurred… but I kept going.

With his free hand, Raphael grabbed a glass jar full of pickled eggs from the display rack. He brought it down with absolute force straight onto the pervert’s right knee. The glass shattered into thousands of sharp pieces. The heavy liquid mixed with the blood on the floor, and the man let out a high-pitched scream as his kneebone split completely apart.

With a deafening crash, I hit the ground like a watermelon smashed against concrete. My skull split open. Blood gushed out, forming a pool all around me.

He was making his way to the main doors when an object soared through the air and landed smack at the back of his head. Paul halted in his steps, his hand slowly moving his hair. His fingers came back covered in a gooey yellow liquid. He easily recognized the foul odor of the slime—the mongrels had actually thrown an egg at him! A hailstorm raging in him, Paul swerved on his heels, ready to release hell on earth. However, he was met with more eggs. Shells crushed on every part of his body, including his face, the yolks staining his expensive Channel suit. In no time, he was a painting of dark blue, yellow, and white.